This Little Frame That Holds Me Is Worth So Much More In Your Hands
by PassionandPromise
Summary: Moments in which the crew of the Enterprise begin to fall for the Captain and his crazy decisions, and some moments in which the Captain himself discovers that he is, actually, right where he belongs.
1. Scotty

**(These Mangled Pieces of Flesh That Are Yours (and mine)).**

* * *

 **Author's Note.**  
Song: 'Kirk Enterprises', Michael Giacchino.

* * *

"Ya' cannae be serious, Sir-"

"It's not like we have a choice, Scotty."

"But, Sir- wha' abou'-"

"Ack, details; when have they ever stopped you- you can do this. I know you can."

Scotty looks up from the broken wires in his goddamn shaking hands, to the pair of baby-blues smeared with blood and bruises, and the numb horror of what the Captain is suggesting thrills under his white-cold veins. The Captain grins wickedly underneath the sheen of sweat and, as he pulls his body tighter into the mangled mess of pulled cables and wires behind him, Scotty follows the Captain's shoulder-line to his arm, to the the limb viciously bent and tangled into the wiring and cords, to the golden shirt that is ripped to reveal vivid purples and blues and a whole rainbow of sickening colours underneath.

The Captain cannot move until Scotty has re-routed some of the power- power that belongs to the control chamber that lies underneath the Captain's body- power that could electrocute or kill them both if Scotty's not careful.

Scotty curses. _No_. It wasn't supposed to fucking _be like this._

The mission was supposed to be bloody _routine_ \- the Captain had bloody said so; go out and take a look at something that Spock had called an 'irregularity' on a planet that had no name because it hadn't been discovered or something-

But, where the Captain was concerned, these 'routine' missions never boded bloody well.

The shuttle had suddenly malfunctioned; no reason as to why, and even if there was, Scotty wasn't sure if he could fix it; in a phrase, it was goddamn out of his hands. In the milliseconds afterward, the Captain had grabbed him before they fell out of their seats and plummeted down fifteen feet to the back of the shuttle; the control chamber had come undone in the process, and to keep him from hitting the live wires, the Captain had shoved Scotty out of the way and had fallen into them, tangling his arm right into the goddamn mess, causing the entire shuttle to lose power altogether.

The comms are gone. There is no way to beam them back to the Enterprise- they're way off-orbit-

 _Shit-_

"Scotty-"

Scotty's stomach drops when he hears his Captain's voice; he remembers the Captain's death in that radiation chamber; he _remembers_ the fear, the bone-wrenching feeling of being _so fucking helpless_ -

 _Helpless_. He's literally sitting there with the fucking mangled _wires_ in his hands and he can't do _a thing_ -

"It's fine," the Captain grinds out between clenched teeth. "Just do what you have to, Scotty. It'll all be fine, so stop worrying-"

"Sir, please- we _need_ to get you outta there first- I cannae do anythin' wi-hout—"

The alarms are going off now, red, glaring and loud, and Scotty can hear the high-pitched dismissal of both their looming deaths, the announcement of their entrance into thermosphere, into an orbit that Scotty doesn't know the name of, and they are free-falling, and Scotty can feel his body lift as the shuttle tumbles, powerless, and—

"That is an order, Scotty," the Captain growls, his eyes suddenly vicious with authority. Of course, Scotty knows better than to believe in the anger of the Captain's voice. "You've a shuttle to save, and there are people on the Enterprise and on whatever planet we are both falling into that need you- we are all counting on you- I'm _counting_ on you."

"Bu' Sir-"

"The needs of the many, Scotty- remember?"

 _If we hit this planet, we could kill someone- something-_

Scotty stops. He looks down at the mangled mess in his hands, all the blue-green-red-yellow wires, the wires that are slipping from out of his reach as he feels himself pitch forward as they fall. The heat is rising in the shuttle- as time paces faster, Scotty can hear the brutal sound of the shuttle crumbling, breaking apart, and Scotty hears the sound of his own heart breaking-

The Captain _believes_ in him, and it's something that Scotty does not take lightly; Scotty knows that the Captain's trust is easily given- the kid leaves his life in the hands of others way too fucking easily- but it's sustaining that trust, keeping that promise…

The alarms thrill louder, and the Captain's breaths are becoming more and more laboured, his face dappling pale-pale white and deep, bloody red from the strain of the wires as they heat and blister his papered skin, and the ship is rocking from the diminishing power and-

Scotty grips the wires, and he stands. "The power chamber is righ' behin' you, Sir," he says. "I can try 'in get a communication line open between us an' the Enterprise, bu' I cannae-"

"Do what needs to be done, Scotty," the Captain breathes, and as he says it the shuttle pitches Scotty back toward the cockpit, and pulls the Captain forward, and with eyes squeezed tight and a barely-heard grunt of pain, Scotty watches as the Captain's face crumples white and purple as his body dangles- no, _hangs_ \- from the control chamber above him, his free arm reaching to try and grab something, to pull the weight off the shredded mess of his shoulder-

Scotty can't reach him, he throws both arms up- he's too goddamn far- he's _too fucking short_ -

"Shit- Captain, jus'-" his voice is hoarse-

"Scotty, forget about me! Just do something to stop us from crumbling into particles of fucking fire!"

The scream pulls Scotty to his senses, and he launches into action-

The shuttle tumbles back, and Scotty jumps, slamming his body into the control chamber, careful not to fall into the Captain's body, careful not to jostle his weight- he digs his feet into the clip-spaces where the door to the chamber had been, pulls a screwdriver out of his boot, and pulls the Captain's free arm up around his shoulders and ignores the weak strength of the Captain as he pulls on Scotty's body weight.

He can feel the Captain's short, intense breaths on his neck- reassurance, he's sure- and the Captain is mumbling something about a name, and Scotty can't hear it because he's re-routing the power manually- or trying to, _goddamnit_ \- praying to some goddamn space God that he doesn't believe in that he can pull enough energy from the auxiliary power station, just for ten seconds of communication, just enough to scream at Chekov to beam them both the _fuck_ out of here-

A spark flies past his face. He doesn't blink. Doesn't give a shit. He pulls out a wire- green, stick to the right side, red for the main processor, and yellows and blues for the shuttle's last reserves, the ones he shouldn't be meddling with because half of them all have connectors lying right behind the Captain's arm and could potentially electrocute them both-

Scotty stops.

The communications system is there, just under the Captain's elbow- he has the yellow wire in his hand- shit-

He doesn't have a choice.

"We hav' to pull yer arm out Sir," he says. "I don' have much of a choice-"

The Captain doesn't reply. Scotty chances a look over his shoulder-

The Captain's face is deathly white, and as Scotty looks up his arm he sees the pools of blood drenching his shirt from his shoulder and a deep-black bruise strains his skin underneath the collar of his shirt.

He didn't hear him- _fuck_ he didn't hear the Captain-

Scotty's anger pitches, and he growls, "Fuck the _needs_ o' the goddamn many, mate-"

He doesn't care about the shuttle, or about death. He starts untangling the Captain's arm straightaway, pulling at whatever wires he can just to reach the thick red wire that has tightened itself so deeply into the space where the Captain's shoulder meets his neck, and Scotty forces down the thought that it almost looks like as if the Captain, his Captain, is being strangled to death.

Clipping the red means no power for the shuttle, Scotty thinks. Clipping it might mean endgame.

Fuck it, he's lived through worse.

Scotty wrenches at the wire, gripping his sweat-stricken fingers around it and tugging and pulling until finally, finally, it gives way and the Captain pitches down into Scotty's waiting arms. The Captain's arm dangles, useless, dead, under him, and Scotty hears a hitching breath, one single gasp for life.

 _"Imminent crash landing ETA five minutes-"_ the intercom crackles-

Power's not gone, Scotty realises, and he breathes a deep sigh of relief.

"Sir-" Scotty breathes. "I can try an' send a signal to the Enterprise- we can try'n beam-"

"Do it," the Captain breathes- "And it's Jim, for Chrissakes, Scotty."

Scotty pulls the Captain- no, _Jim_ \- down to the floor, bracing his hands against the Captain's- no, _Jim's_ \- arm, on the off-chance the shuttle swerves and pulls the Captain's- _Jim's_ \- body with it, but the Captain- _Jim_ \- is throwing his hands off, wincing as his shoulder jostles with the movement-

"Not a princess, Scotty-" the Captain- Jim, _goddamnit_ \- says. "Just do it, would you?" His eyes blink open, dazed and dazzled with pain, and his unhurt arm braces against the wall behind him as they lurch .

Scotty turns and reaches for the connector, and he throws the yellow wire into the jack, and suddenly he starts firing words out at ninety miles a minute and he isn't sure of what he's saying, and he can hear something about two minutes- they've only got _two fucking minutes_ and-

"-dammnit, Spock, can ya bloody well hear me?-"

 _"-tty… hear yo- Whe-_ " he hears over the comm, and he's dazed and suddenly he's babbling co-ordinates, and he knows Chekov will understand- Chekov _has to understand_ , goddamnit, because they've got less than a minute and a half, and-

The shuttle lurches back, and Scotty hears the distinct sound of glass cracking, and Scotty doesn't hear Jim- _yes, Jim, his name is Jim_ \- slip and flounder back from the wall and drop down into the cockpit until he hears the alarms shrill louder and the words- _"… one minute-"_

 _".. n't grasp your locati-"_

 _"Sir-"_ Scotty thrills, his heart too fast for him to breathe and he's panicking and he doesn't want to fucking die, and he looks over his shoulder to find Jim gripping his fists into the seat as they swerve faster- faster-

"Spock," Jim shouts, eyes opening wide, alert, face set in determination. Scotty can see the pain, but it hides like a dormant beast underneath the folds of his skin. Jim shouts, "Spock, can you hear me?"

 _"-yes-"_ the comm fizzles in return.

"Our co-ordinates are seven-five-eight-twenty-three-point-oh-one-hundred-South-South-East. Were over three hundred-fifty kilometres from Enterprise, and we've got less than thirty seconds- _start beaming us now_!"

Scotty blinks. Oh. He finds it again.

He sees it, sees that face, and knows. Here is his Captain, there's the face that had won against all odds, the rock that held them all together, the rock that pushed against everything when everything pulled back-

 _"ETA fifteen seconds-"_

Jim was not going down so easily, Jim wasn't cracking under the pressure, even when the pressure was cracking Scotty into milli-fractions of glass and dust and wires that cannot be repaired.

Scotty remembers being doubted. Scotty remembers being told he was never, _ever_ good enough.

Scotty also remembers the day the Captain wanted him on his ship.

The glass is cracking behind the resolved face of Scotty's Captain, and a glimmer of light shimmers around them, and Scotty breathes because this means that Chekov has locked onto them and they aren't going to-

Jim cracks Scotty a grin, a supernova of a smile that threatens to tear his face apart, a grin that forces Scotty to forget- just for a half second, just for a brief, fleeting moment, about what it means to do everything, to try until the last moment, to promise a Captain's promise that you will not under any circumstances let down your crew, you friends, your family-

"I'm sorry, Jim-" he starts, because he really had started to doubt himself, doubt his Captain, doubt the power of their Enterprise, and just as the glass cracks a little more, and as Scotty's heart races a little more, suddenly, there's-

White.

Blissful, beautiful white encircles them and they aren't on the shuttle anymore- they're somewhere else- they're landing, and Scotty feels his body slam against the ground, and he jumps, he looks up, and there, lying there, winded and too-pale even by Scotty's standards, lies the Captain, Jim, who is breathing deep and dispelling the fear that Scotty knew lay hidden, unbidden, underneath his veins, his bones, his _heart_.

And in that moment, Scotty thinks that he will _never_ doubt his Captain, or even doubt himself, ever again.

"Sir-" Scotty starts, but the Captain waves off his fear with another smile.

"We're home," the Captain says, and he chuckles. "We're alive, thanks to you, Scotty." He suddenly barks a laugh, and Scotty watches him as his head falls back on the ground. "We're alive!" he shouts.

"But Sir- it wasn'-" Scotty starts, turning around and keeping his arse firmly on the floor under them because- wires save him- he'd probably tumble with the weakness in his knees right now: goddamnit, _they're both alive-_

"I've no idea what wires went where in the control chamber, Scotty- only _you_ could do that- and _you saved us both_ ," the Captain interrupts, "And what did I say about my name?"

Scotty watches him a second longer, watches the wide grin and the maniac laughter, and then- Vulcans and all things inhuman- it is only then that he laughs, and, mighty hell, it's the best laugh he's had in years.

 _They're alive._

Scotty can hear McCoy's bark as he runs down the hall toward them both-

"Jim, you are _never_ going on any routine missions ever again if I have something to say about it-"

Suddenly, Spock is extending a hand out to him, and Scotty looks over his shoulder as the Captain wobbles to a stand before he shakes his head and says, "Scotty saved the day, didn't he? Doesn't matter after that, does it?"

Scotty catches a glimpse of the garbled mess of the Captain's shoulder, his neck and even the ripped shreds of his shirt, and suddenly, the blood loss goes to the Captain's head, and his knees give out and he comes crashing to the floor, crashing into the waiting arms of a doctor screaming curses words the likes of which the Scottish man has never in his lifetime heard-

"Matters after that my arse, Jim," Scotty grumbles, reaching out to give a disgruntled, overworked McCoy a hand. The injuries are not as severe as Scotty had thought, but the burns and the fractures in his Captain's dislocated shoulder would take time.

But it is only afterward, once Jim is under induced sleep, that Scotty realises the truth.

The Captain _trusts_ him; the sleeping Captain trusts him _with his life._

He was once ignored; his family thrust him into the depths of space and didn't care if he lived or not.

But the Captain.. the Captain- _Jim_ \- is family.

And that means even more to Scotty than he will ever, ever, say.


	2. Part One: Bones

**These Are the Voices with Which You Call Me Home (into your waiting arms).**

 **Author's Note:**

 _Part One._

7 Years: Lucas Graham.

Deep End: Birdy.

** The songs quoted above are the ones I used for writing; if you want, try listening to them when reading :)

Also, I kinda played with Leonard's family; I used different names, added brothers and a sister he doesn't have in the Alternate Movie Series and stuff, but it's for the purpose of the story, so I hope people don't mind too much ^^.

* * *

Leonard McCoy stood at Jim's door with the order to bring his Captain back with him or so help him he'd have his hide served on his father's snow-white plate first thing on Christmas Eve morning. Arms crossed, he waited after ringing the doorbell, and felt every bite of the stone-cold chill that settled deep under his skin. The snow was coming, and it was coming fast, and if he didn't get a move on he'd be stuck knee-deep in it before one in the morning.

"I'm a doctor, not a butler," he growled, before puncturing the doorbell again. Silence answered him; Jim lived in a ground floor, two-bedroom apartment just ten minutes from McCoy and, even though Leonard had offered Jim a bed in the much-fancier apartment he'd bought from the raise after the promotion, Jim still hadn't taken him up on his offer.

They'd returned from their five-year mission two weeks ago; the doctor hadn't seen him since, but

once his mother threatened him with a metaphorical corkscrew and his father with a literal pitchfork (you could tell Jim was loved by the McCoy's, and they hadn't even met the kid yet, which was a surprise that Leonard didn't want to go into), Leonard knew it was time to man up and face the kid.

Biting his lip, he chanced banging the shit out of the door and barked, "Jim, I know you're in there. Don't make me bust the door."

Something from inside shuffled in answer.

Yep.

Knew it. Called it, actually- Chekov thought the moron was on holiday in bloody Hawaii or something. Leonard knew better; the bloody Captain decided to hole himself up in his lame-ass apartment for the Christmas. No family; no friends; no communication, and the possibility of a repetition of events from not-so-long ago.

He whispered a thankful prayer that his mother was persuasive.

The door opened, slightly. Leonard cocked an eyebrow and shuddered when a little gust of wind whipped his wet hair from out of his face.

"Got your bags packed, kid?" he asked.

Jim blinked back at him. _There_. Leonard saw it, the little rings under his eyes, the telltale sign that fatigue was starting to set in— that, and the kid must've already started on the first bottle without him.

 _Fuck._

"Packed?" Jim mumbled. He rubbed his eyes. Sleep was biting, and Leonard knew that Jim only ever gave into tiredness when his body screamed for sleep (what the actual fuck was the kid **doing** to make him forget sleep- ah, no, wait; _this_ was Jim Tiberius Kirk they were talking about. No answers needed). "What?"

"Christmas, kid. Pack them. Or else I'll be served as porridge with a side-dish of maple syrup first thing tomorrow." Leonard ignored the little slip of Georgia fear; his mother had no problem doing just what he knew she would. Years of growing up under her unwavering hand made Leonard swallow her words faster than scotch.

Jim stepped a little further out the door, and shivered under the light t-shirt he wore. His face revealed nothing, but the worry in his voice revealed everything; "Bones, it's ten o' clock at night- you're supposed to be on your way- your family-" he added, before fumbling with his hands in the dark to claim words he couldn't speak.

A sliver of concern slipped down Leonard's back. "Yeah. My family is waiting for _you_. They wanted you to come along, celebrate the holidays; they want to meet you for the first time. Two weeks, Jim. Fun. Food- and did I mention you get to meet Joanna?" he grinned. "Jo's letting me take her for the holidays- and Joanna's been dying to meet you."

"Joanna?" Confusion settled over Jim's face. Leonard read it, clear as day- a little girl wanted to meet the man who saved his father's life more times than he could probably count, but _why_ \- he opened his mouth, and he shook his head, unable to understand, "I-"

Jim was stalling; Leonard knew the goddamn kid too well. "I'm not barging in on your family at Christmas- I'm fine, actually, Bones," he chuckled, and Leonard gave him _the look_ , but Jim was still shaking his head, his hands trembling with the below-zero temperatures, his breaths foggy with warmth, "Really- I'm fine- I've got a few reports to-"

 _Lack of sleep, eh?_ A fist of black fury burst through Leonard's skin. _Jesus._ Jim's face fell when he saw the rising anger. 'Fleet wanted the kid to **work** over his hard-earned goddamn holidays-

 _Those fuckers-_

"Jim Tiberius Kirk," Leonard found himself growling, "You _are not_ doing any reports, nor anything that has _anything_ to do with 'fleet over the next two weeks- _do you hear me_?" He grabbed Jim's arm and pulled him back into his apartment before finding Jim's bedroom, an empty bag and a ridiculous amount of clothes in the sparse-enough wardrobe. If he didn't see a single fairy-light or Christmas decoration, then he paid no heed to it (and a small part of him hoped that it had something to do with how busy the kid had been- _Jesus_ , was he even going to _celebrate_ the holidays this year?). "You've saved hundreds- _thousands_ \- of lives when you diverted that goddamn ship from that black hole under Zircon III four weeks back, and you are celebrating _that_ by coming with me, meeting my daughter, my family and by drinking yourself merry with a couple of like-minded individuals."

"Bones-" Jim started as he stepped forward, "I can't walk in on a family like that-"

"How about the time you helped Scotty to re-route some of the main-frame power to the projectiles in order to save us from being crushed by that enemy ship with the weird name two months back?"

"Awayas?" Jim answered, before shaking his head again, "Bones- seriously-"

"Or the time when you singlehandedly took on the Grayachies so that Uhura would not be bartered off like a fucking slave while on-ground?"

"Bones- Jesus, _anyone_ would have stopped that-"

"And the time that you re-wrote all the ship's codes so that no-one would be held liable for the pirate landing two years back- even Spock was pissed when he found out that you were held captive so that those fuckers could inch the codes out of you."

"Yeah, but I didn't want anyone else to get hurt-"

"You _never_ want anyone else to get hurt."

"Because 'anyone else' means _my crew_ , and I'm-"

Leonard threw a thick coat over his shoulder and he heard Jim grunt, _"Ompf-"_ when it landed in his face. The action itself effectively ended the conversation, and Leonard wasn't sure whether Jim's sudden docile behavior meant that the older man had won, or that the younger was too tired to care.

"You saved my life on that ship, Jim," he breathed as he knelt down to the floor, throwing a few jumpers into the already-full bag, "The least I can do is bring you home."

It was something that he knew Jim might not have heard, yet, he didn't really care. Jim had no family; Winona was gone, Sam was gone, everyone Jim had cared about was gone, and Christmas got really lonely for those without families and out of all the people in the world, Jim was one person who didn't need to be left alone.

Leonard remembered the last time he found Jim, alone, at Christmas- their first year at the Academy. The kid was drunk out of his mind and a bruised eye, broken ribs and a twisted ankle to match. He remembered the words that had spilled out of his best friend then- _"I was seven when she left- there's no-one there anymore-"_ and he swore it wouldn't be like that again.

Jim was coming with him. Whether he liked it or not.

* * *

The journey was four hours long, a journey that would've only been two and a half had it not been for the snow. The Christmas lights from one town to the next filled Leonard's eyes, and with the heat turned up and the radio pushing one of those oldies- 'Driving Home for Christmas'- he thought it funny, fitting.

"Seriously- I can get a bus back- you don't actually have to feel like-" Jim started for the fifteenth time before Leonard snarled.

Jesus, he was getting more pissed by the second. "You are _family_ , Jim. _Our family_. Jesus, how many times do I have to say that?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jim breathed, before he pulled the hood of his coat up over his head and shrugged his entire body weight against the door, as if to silence the entire conversation.

But Leonard heard it, the whisper, "I'm not, though. Not really."

If he wasn't driving… he would've punched the seat or something.

It was only when he heard the tell-tale breath of a sleeping, overtired mind that Leonard whispered, "I might not have been able to see Joanna again, Jim."

The hundreds of times that the Captain had surfaced, bloody and bruised and broken and bone-sick and bone-tired in sickbay, would forever remain in his mind.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter.

* * *

"Finally," a white-haired woman with a bright red and green shawl stepped onto the porch as Leonard surfaced from the driver's seat, "I thought you were going to leave us waiting in the goddamn snow on the night before Christmas Eve, Len."

"It's nice to know I can come home to your impatience, mama," he drawled as he pulled out his bags, the presents, everything. If he noticed that Jim still hadn't opened his door, he paid no heed to it. The kid had no choice; he was staying here, and there was no one else out for miles to take him back to that dreary apartment. In front of the jeep, the twinkling fairytale lights glittered over the three-floor mansion, the broad expanse of it revealing enough of their family's wealth that he needed have said nor described anything more.

They weren't always that rich; Leonard had a feeling that his relationship with Jim had something to do with it, and their five-year long journey into deep-space had heralded many conversations from the McCoy's about a sudden raise in their accounts and finances.

It became all the more obvious when Chekov and Sulu had mentioned their families while on the bridge two years back; Jim wasn't there when everyone had opened up, relating the sudden change in their family's way of life, in the way that their stress had relaxed into financial security.

Jim never spoke of it; they never brought it up, but everyone knew that Jim's influence had something to do with it.

"Is that sarcasm I hear, Leonard?" his mother called as she stepped down the steps to the snowy ground. He shook his head.

"No, but you should be inside- it's nearly three in the morning, and you and-"

"Quit the old shenanigans," his mother quipped. "Now, where's that strapping young man I've heard so much about?"

Jim still hadn't made it out of the car. Leonard looked over to his side of the jeep, and found a head still lolled over the window of the passenger's seat. He stopped.

 _Oh._

"I think he's still asleep."

Leonard found a pair of closed eyes folded into the neck of a thick coat, a face scratched with lines of tiredness that inched over skin like a tree taking root. Out for the count, completely. There was a surprise- or was it really? Leonard couldn't be sure; Jim was always a bundle of energy and starbursts; the kid never stopped, never kept pace with any time but anyone else's, but even in the last little while, the kid had kept himself holed up in that damn apartment. Leonard didn't know whether or not the kid had had any sleep in that time; judging by how out of it he was, it seemed that sleep didn't come knocking on the kid's door in a long, long while.

"So this is your Captain," his mother breathed over his shoulder. Leonard looked down to her. Her eyes crinkled in the near-darkness. "Ah, I see what you mean- he is very young. The poor thing; we should move him before he wakes up."

Leonard softened. "Yeah- is dad up?"

"Of course- everyone's waiting inside- Samantha, Rowen and Charlie all arrived yesterday, and Joanna's asleep in her room; she was so excited to see her father, and Jim, of course."

Leonard breathed a smile. Just what Jim needed. People- lots of them. "Right. I'll get Jim, and you get warmed up inside. The old room?" he added, and his mother nodded, before putting a hand on his cheek.

"We've missed you, sweetheart."

Leonard chuckled. "Missed you too, mum. Happy Christmas."

A single, feather-light snowflake tumbled to the earth beneath them, and the spell that was winter had unleashed its magic.

* * *

Jim snuffled in his sleep the second Leonard laid him down in his old bedroom. His sleeping form turned toward the doctor and curled around a pillow, and as he snuffled again, he buried his head further down into the covers of the duvet the doctor pulled up over his shoulders.

It would've been comical- a part of him wished he had something to record the image in front of him- but Leonard knew that the body under him was so far under in sleep that the only reason for it was exhaustion. He frowned a little, hoping Jim wouldn't catch a cold or something now that his defenses had finally relented.

He should've brought his medical supplies up the stairs with him- maybe he should've-

"Hey," someone breathed from behind, and he jumped a mile.

" _The fuck_ -" he screech-whispered, and turned to find Samantha's whiskey-scotch eyes staring back at him from the depths of darkness. Leonard's old bedroom was situated at the far end of the house, away from the sounds of the kitchen and even the dining room; silence inched its way through the newly-renovated room- he was shocked that Samantha's approach was so quiet.

"You sure jump easily- I forgot that about you," Samantha said, before she took a look at Jim's sleeping form over her brother's shoulder. "N'aww, I can see why you're so fond of him-"

"Shut it, Sam," Leonard ground out as he dropped the duvet completely.

"Dude, we all know- we've all known for quite some time, so stop trying to hide it, for God's sake," Samantha's drawl came out thick and heady. "Just in case you want to know- dad thought you'd crack before you brought him home."

Leonard stilled, his body frozen with new knowledge, and an overwhelming fear. His mother threatening him with a corkscrew- and her admonition of Jim's youth… _Shit._ "It all makes sense now- the _reason_ why they wanted me to bring him home-"

 **"** **Ha!"** Samantha grinned through the darkness, "Does your **Captain** even know you're bi-"

"Shut the fuck up, Sam!" Leonard growled, before he shoved her out the door.

"Happy Christmas to you too," his little sister cheerily whispered before she shut the door behind her, leaving McCoy standing in the darkness.

It was only when he took a second look around the old room that he found another double bed tucked in beyond the one Jim was sleeping in. Leonard's stomach dropped. **_Shit._**

"I am _not_ fucking sleeping with the Captain in the same room. No. _Fucking_. Way."

* * *

(He kinda did in the end, though).

* * *

"Daddy?" someone whispered in his dreams. Leonard smiled; he knew that voice anywhere.

He opened his eyes, and pulled his waiting daughter into his arms. "I missed you," he said, cuddling her as close as he could. She giggled, grappling with his t-shirt and tugging her head of chestnut-brown curls against his chest.

"It's Christmas Eve!" she whispered.

"Really? We should light a fire for Santa now, shouldn't we?"

"No!" Joanna whispered, "We can't, daddy- then he won't be able to come down the chimney!"

Leonard blinked the sleep from his eyes, and pulled his daughter away from him to take in her seven-year-old form. She was still as light and short as ever, and he opened his mouth to say, "Sweetie, why are we whispering?"

"There's a man sleeping over there, and I didn't want to wake him," Joanna replied, turning with McCoy to take in Jim's soft snores in the bed across from them. Leonard blinked, and then remembered the events from the night- a few hours- before. Jim had turned in his sleep, and was facing them both, the lines around his eyes softened with the night's rest, his arms and face pulled into the pillow like he was wringing the absolute shit out of some poor human being. Leonard smiled.

"I don't think we need to worry about Jim waking up anytime yet, sweetie- so tell me, are we making Christmas cake and hot chocolate, McCoy-style, today?"

Joanna's eyes lit up like a pair of stars, and Leonard fought the serious urge to bundle her deep into his arms again. God, he missed this.

"And can we play outside? There's lots of snow- we can make a snowman, and Uncle Jim can help!" Joanna grinned, sparkles and diamonds dazzling her round, hazel eyes. Leonard chuckled; she was going to kill the sucker that fell for her with those beautiful orbs.

"I think that Uncle Jim would love that."

* * *

After having his shower, Leonard didn't find Joanna back in her bedroom.

He toweled off his hair, about to call out her name, when he heard her babbling away about birds and forests and facts. He followed her voice back to his bedroom, and found her, her arms propped up on Jim's chest. As if she was simply _made_ to be there.

Leonard watched as Jim laughed at something she said, and his heart pulled at the raw surrender in it, at the boundless joy in Jim's cackle. Tinged at the ends of that voice were the tell-tale signs of tiredness, and with it, Leonard felt his heart tug all the more.

Goddamn those 'Fleet fuckers. He'd kill them once he returned from this break.

Did they even _realise_ how many times their Captain put himself on the line for them?

"Are you serious?" Jim was saying, genuine shock on his face, "Can monkeys _really_ do that- or are you just making it up?"

"No!" Joanna cried, giggling uncontrollably- "I'm being serious, Uncle Jim!"

"Nah- I don't believe you," Jim said, "But, on Airtide III, where your daddy was, we saw creatures that looked like monkeys- and they could _fly_!"

"What?" Joanna's eyes widened, her mouth shaping a huge 'O' as she stared in wonder at Leonard's Captain.

"Yeah, and your daddy had to stop the monkeys before they ended up taking over the entire ship, and-"

"Jim, Joanna does not need to hear _that_ particular story," Leonard jarred the bedroom door a little wider. Jim's expression stilled, his head coming to look up over his shoulder to the door, and a mixture of embarrassment and naïve sheepishness overcame his features- an expression Leonard hardly ever saw on the kid when he wore that 'Captain' expression.

 _Jesus._ Jim would be the death of him, someday.

"Daddy!" Joanna scrambled off Jim's chest before racing over to him; he picked her up and threw her high into the air.

"You've gotten bigger since I left you ten minutes ago, ya little rascal," Leonard laughed.

"Daddy, Uncle Jim is funny," she said as he put her on his hip. Leonard cocked an eyebrow at that one. "He's all ours, isn't he? Like granny said?"

Leonard looked at Jim, who sat up on the bed, his face dappling red.

"We have to be very careful when it comes to _Uncle_ Jim," Leonard said, narrowing his eyes at his best friend.

"Uncle Jim said he was going to show me how to dance, and how to catch fireflies, and-" Joanna bubbled, but she was cut short with a suddenly suspicious look from her father.

When Leonard turned to look at Jim, Jim's face went a shade darker, and Jim held both his hands up, babbling, "Whoa! No, I didn't- I swear, I didn't! Nope. That was not me- I swear, Bones!"

Leonard's warning signals went off, and the words, 'Daddy-mode' must've flashed, because Jim's face went sheet-white and his voice rose a couple semi-tones—

"Nope- _it wasn't me_ , I didn't suggest _any_ of that-"

"Yes, you did, Uncle Jim- you said-"

"Kid, don't go blaming me- your dad looks like he wants to kill me."

"Oh for God's sakes, it's seven in the morning and I want to sleep!" someone boomed from two halls down, and Jim jumped from the bitter evil in the woman's voice.

"Shut up, Samantha!" Leonard barked back. "Just because _you_ aren't a morning person doesn't mean the rest of us aren't!"

"You're one to talk, _Bones_!" Rowen opened his bedroom door a crack and shook his nick-name out like a taunt from somewhere else in the house.

Joanna looked between her father and Uncle Jim, and giggled, "Merry Christmas."

* * *

At breakfast that Jim finally walked into the kitchen, head slightly bowed. Everyone had looked up from the table, and Leonard muttered, " _Finally_ ," loud enough for anyone to hear. Jim stopped in the doorway, before fumbling with an open, silent mouth-

"Hi, everyone," he finally ventured.

It baffled Leonard, slightly. Here was a man who could singlehandedly pilot the Enterprise; yet, here was a Jim who deflated in front of a family-

 _Of course,_ he thought, _the Enterprise_ _ **is**_ _Jim, in every sense of the word._ He wasn't just a Captain; he _was_ the ship.

"This _your_ Captain, Len?" Samantha asked around a mouthful of cereal. Leonard cut her a sharp look' she grinned.

"Yup," Joanna said. "Uncle Jim said that daddy saved everyone from a potential nuclear disaster once."

The table went silent, and Jim perked his head up at her words. "Um-" he started.

"Yeah. _Um_ ," Leonard added, knowing that he hadn't- _quite_ \- told his family that one. He knew that there were shared looks between everyone at the table, but his eyes were on Joanna, on her sudden reverence for him, and he stopped, and- well, _this_ was unexpected, something he had never seen before, something he hadn't ever heard before.

Joanna had been shy; she found it hard to get along with kids her age, and Leonard knew that he was to blame for some of that disassociation. Her awkwardness made her hang onto her family, but-

Did _Jim_ do that?

Joanna suddenly looked up to her father's eyes, and her face softened, and she whispered, "Uncle Jim said that you saved the ship hundreds of times, and that you are a brilliant doctor, and that you are his best friend, and that he loves you like a brother, and-"

Leonard's heartstrings pulled again. Shit. _Jesus._

"- _there's no-one there anymore-"_

 _Jesus Christ._

"Joanna, I've _no clue_ where you got that from," Jim stepped in, suddenly finding everything but the doctor's face very, very interesting. Leonard knew that the wallpaper was interesting- _who decorated their kitchen with paper-pink flowers, for crying out loud_ \- but he also suddenly understood where all this awkwardness was coming from.

And it clicked.

Jim's awkwardness was the same as Joanna's.

"But-" Joanna started-

"Nope. No clue- didn't come from me-" Jim was suddenly fidgeting, and Leonard could hear the little lapse of his breath from across the kitchen, and before he could move to help his friend- his _best_ friend, _goddamnit_ \- his mother had appeared from out of nowhere and reached out and enveloped Jim in a hug.

Leonard stopped. He saw the flush of embarrassment outshine his Captain's features-

"Um-" Jim started, before Leanna McCoy looked up into Jim's eyes, holding both her hands against his face. Jim stopped, and stared into her eyes.

"Thank you for bringing my son home, Captain," she said, "You are most welcome to stay for as long as you like, whenever you like. Our home is yours, and our family are yours, always."

Jim had stilled in Leanna's hands, and Leonard couldn't read the emotion that he found in Jim's eyes. The kid had blinked, then looked down, and reached up to hold both of his mother's hands in his own, closing his eyes, savoring the comfort only a mother could give.

Leonard had told her everything, of course; he hadn't stopped calling his family throughout the entire time he was in space; they knew of his adventures in the same way that they knew that the Captain was every inch the friend Leonard had **needed** \- _still_ needed- when he was failing- as a man, as a husband, as a father, as a human being. They knew that the Captain was more than just a rock- he was a constant solace and balm, for Leonard, for them.

And when his mother found out about _that_ Christmas- _the Christmas that shall not be named_ \- she fired up a helluva storm just to have him here.

"Thank you for having me," Jim whispered out, his voice thick with emotion, "Thank you."

Leonard smiled, and gathered Joanna in his arms. _Jim was home._ _It was Christmas._

"So," Rowen said, breaking the wonderful, wonderful moment, "Does our little brother _love_ our Captain as much as he loves him?"

Leonard flushed, and his father's hand whipped out of nowhere and whacked his son on the back of the head. "Ow!" Rowen winced.

Leanna sighed, the magical spell broken, "Captain-"

"Jim," Jim answered straightaway, chuckling under his breath, and catching Leonard's eye with a wink. Leonard flushed with a groan.

"Jim," Mrs. McCoy said, "You might end up regretting staying in this house. A word of warning; we're downright monsters at Christmas-time."

"I don't think I'd have a family any other way," Jim whispered, and Leonard swore he saw his mother's eyes crinkle with soft-hearted emotion. "Merry Christmas," he added, "everyone."


End file.
